April 16, 2012
By AshTaylor BRONZE, Roslyn, New York
AshTaylor BRONZE, Roslyn, New York
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

It sucks to come out of the shower in the winter. Especially when there’s no heat and little hot water. But wrapped in a towel, and trembling, I climb out; my feet, my magenta toe-nails, and the old black and white tile. Sometimes the cold burns.
I stand in front of the medicine cabinet dripping and wrapped in a towel. I wipe off the mirror.
I look older.
I look older then I can ever remember.
The set of my jaw. The lines of my neck and my color bone. Even my hair. The same thick long dark hair I’ve always had, it looks different. My eyes, aren’t eyes supposed too stay the same always the same? I don’t know, have mine changed? I want them to be the same, a reminder, a vigil, right? I look down, I have tiny feet, everyone says so. My toes too, are tiny, but I can get it real good now. I can paint them, when my mom has to work on the weekends. My mom used to paint my fingers and toes every Saturday, Dad would read the paper. He wore these gold wire frames that I used to try on and they would give me a headache but I didn’t care. He used to peer over the top and watch us, sometimes I would catch his eye and he would smile and make a funny face. I would laugh; he could do that, my dad. And mom, she was good too, she would pretend she didn’t know what I was laughing out.
“Marlena” “whats so funny?” she would say hiding a smile. Dad would hold a finger to his lips and then hide behind his paper and I laugh more, the paper would tremble with his laughter. “Aye, David look at our little girl, look at these tiny feet.” He would come over and hold my foot, his glasses would fall to his nose and he would look like he’s thinking real hard. Then together, all of a sudden, they would kiss them.
He would turn to her and hold her face in his hands.
“How can you paint something so small!” he said
“David you married a talented women.” I liked to watch my parents kiss, everyone thought it was gross, but its not, it’s sweet. It’s really nice. I miss that, I think sometimes, and I miss that for my mom. Doesn’t everyone deserve someone to kiss?

The author's comments:
this is a snippit of a larger piece i am working on, please comment, and view my other work! Thanks!

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